Page 61 of Only By Grace
“Family,” Westwood said simply, his tone steady. “Her sisters, her home, her sense of belonging. She is not a woman who seeks wealth or power. She wants to be seen, appreciated for who she is. You must show her that you see her, that you value her as she is.”
Cunningham tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You could write her a letter—perhaps poetry. A heartfelt, vulnerable one. Women adore letters. And then follow it up with something personal. Perhaps a gift?”
“A gift?” Ronan repeated, sceptical.
“Something meaningful,” Cunningham clarified. “Not jewels or silks—she’s not the type. A book she has mentioned loving, or a token that reminds her of your time together. Thoughtful gestures go a long way.”
Rotham leaned forward, his piercing gaze capturing Ronan’s. “And once you’ve done all that, Carew, you march up to her, look her in the eyes, and tell her exactly how you feel. No hedging, no excuses. Lay your heart bare. If she accepts, she’s yours. If not, then at least you will know you gave it your all.”
Ronan let out a long breath, his resolve hardening. “You’re all insufferable, you know that? But you are in the right of it. I cannot afford to hesitate any longer.”
“Good,” Westwood said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Grace deserves a man who will fight for her.”
“Does that mean I have your blessing?” If he were being honest, Westwood’s blessing was what he feared would not be freely given.
“As long as you make Grace happy.”
Ronan would die trying.
“And you,” Rotham added with a rare grin, “deserve to be reminded that romance is not for the faint of heart. Now off you go, Carew. Win your lady.”
As Ronan strode towards the door, Cunningham called after him, “And for goodness’ sake, change and shave before you declare your undying love.”
Ronan didn’t reply, but as he closed the door behind him, he felt a faint smile tug at his lips. It seemed he had allies in this—and a second chance worth fighting for. He’d been afraid his friends would validate his fears of unworthiness. Now to go home, bathe, change, and plan.
As Ronan strode from the room, determination etched into every line of his face, the three men exchanged glances.
“Do you think he will succeed?” Rotham asked, his tone light but curious.
Westwood lifted his glass. “Faith told me Grace is already willing to have him, but I will enjoy seeing him grovel for once.”
CHAPTER 21
The morning looked deceptively warm as sunlight streamed through the windows of Westwood House. Grace sat in the morning room with her embroidery, her stitches slow and uneven as her thoughts wandered. Theo and Evalina played with some knotted thread she’d tossed to them, while her sisters and Maeve dotted the room at their own tasks.
The monotony was broken by the sudden arrival of a footman, who carried an elegant bouquet of pink roses, freesia, ivy, and violets. Their fresh scent wafted gently through the air as he presented them to Grace.
“For you, miss,” he announced, bowing slightly before withdrawing.
Grace’s fingers stilled on the fabric, her brow furrowing as she set aside her work and reached for the flowers. Tucked among the blossoms was a small, folded note, its edges embossed with a simple yet elegant crest. Her heart quickened as she recognized the seal.
With trembling hands, she opened the note and read the neatly penned lines:
Dear Miss Whitford,
Would you please do me the honour of accompanying me on a drive this morning if you are not otherwise engaged? I will call for you at noon, should that be convenient to you.
Your obedient servant,
Carew
For a moment,she simply stared at the words. The note was simple, but it carried a weight that set her pulse racing. He was holding out an olive branch by asking to see her—so perhaps she had not ruined everything last night.
“Look! These flowers mean love, hope, sincerity, and fidelity, and there are love knots woven inside.” Hope would know such things as she was the romantic one. Still, did the bouquet really hold such meaning? Had Carew chosen them with that in mind? It could be a coincidence.
Joy leaned over, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What is it, Grace? You look flushed. Pray tell.”
“’Tis nothing,” Grace replied too quickly, clutching the note to her chest and feeling a bit timid with Lady Maeve present. However, her evasiveness only piqued their interest further, and soon Hope and Faith joined the fray, each pressing her for details.
